


All He Has

by bonoffee



Category: Brokeback Mountain (2005)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonoffee/pseuds/bonoffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's always imagined snuggling to be fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All He Has

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to moshesque for the beta.

Jack wakes and turns onto his right shoulder to watch Ennis, who is still asleep, his face illuminated by the weak dawn sunlight filtering through gaps in the canvas. This is an opportunity Jack never misses, to simply stare without receiving a glare or a mutter in response. Ennis isn’t one for that sort of attention, Jack has concluded, although he tries not to wonder if things would be different were he, Jack, a woman. 

Jack has dwelt before on Ennis’ obvious unease at being sexually attracted to a man and thought, with sadness, that it must be the reason why Ennis resists face-to-face contact beyond their fervent mid-fuck kissing. There’s nothing wrong with the kissing, of course, but Jack wishes sometimes Ennis would look him in the eye when he comes. The pure pleasure, the organic ecstasy – Jack can only dream about how beautiful Ennis must be in that moment of freefall. 

Sighing, Jack reaches out and brushes stray hair away from Ennis’ closed eyes. He really doesn’t know how they got to this point, where they’re going, what’s going to happen to them. He isn’t sure he wants to find out. All he needs is to be held and reassured, even if the promises and whispers turn out to be lies told for the benefit of his peace of mind. 

Jack leans in and presses a featherweight kiss to Ennis’ brow. Ennis stirs, and ten seconds later has both eyes open, squinting at Jack, who is trying to move closer, to snuggle. He’s always imagined snuggling to be fun.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” Ennis croaks, raising up onto his elbows.

“Snugglin’,” Jack replies with a slight smile. 

Ennis rubs at his left eye and sits all the way up, away from Jack. “We got work to do,” he says shortly, yanking his jeans on and getting to his knees to button the fly. 

Jack pretends he isn’t hurt, that the funny ache across his belly is the result of too much beans rather than not enough Ennis. “But we got tons o’ time.” He sits up too, goose-bumps rising on his naked skin. “Thought we could jus’. Jus’ lie here or somethin’. Wanted a give you a cuddle.” He knows it sounds ridiculous, even in his own head, but Ennis has no idea. He doesn’t seem to realise there’s more to Jack than an arse to fuck when the mood takes him. 

“You want a cuddle, you git a cat.” Ennis puts on his hat and leaves the tent. Jack stares after him, stung, the cold air nipping his eyes and making them water. 

#

Jack and Ennis don’t speak at breakfast. Jack has nothing to say. He’s sore from the night before and accommodating that by lying on his stomach as he eats. Ennis is sitting somewhere to his right; it sounds like he’s getting ready to ride out to the sheep. 

True enough, not many minutes pass before Ennis is in Jack’s line of vision, swinging his leg over the horse’s body and settling himself in the saddle. He doesn’t glance back as the horse moves off, not until he’s just about to disappear from Jack’s sight; then, he turns his head and meets Jack’s eyes, and something inside Jack’s very soul gives a joyful leap. 

Jack starts cleaning the pan and tidying in preparation for Ennis’ eventual return.

#

The sun’s still pretty high when Ennis approaches the fire, sits across from Jack who is cooking, takes a drink from the whisky Jack has poured him. They sit in silence until the beans are ready and Jack feels fortified by his achievement.

“It don’t take no science to work out I ain’t never gonna be no chef,” he says with good-humour, spooning some of the food onto his plate. “These beans speak for themselves.”

Ennis snorts from under the brim of his hat. “Hell, if those beans could talk they’d be screamin’ for mercy, way you batter ‘em around that pan.”

Jack starts doling out Ennis’ share of the beans, fighting to keep a smile from his lips. Ennis paying him attention with a comment like that is a good sign; the barely-there teasing sarcasm is delivered with an affection Ennis rarely lets show. “Y’know, friend, have you ever had oatmeal cookies?” Jack asks, handing Ennis his plate.

“What sorta shit’s that?” is Ennis’ replying grunt. He sounds sleepy and Jack is aware he’ll probably drift off within the next five minutes or after he’s eaten his beans – whichever comes first.

Jack swallows his mouthful and shakes his head a little. “Oatmeal cookies ain’t no shit. My grandma used to bake ‘em when I was knee-high. Let me lick out the bowl. She loved me good, my grandma. And them cookies were fuckin’ delicious, ain’t no joke. Oats an’ a bit o’ chocolate an’ some special stuff she tossed in when she felt generous. I wish I could make ‘em for you now, friend, you’d swear you’d never ate so fine. Beans or no beans.” Jack sneaks a glance at Ennis and is unsurprised to see that his eyes are closed, his hat is sinking lower over his face, his legs are parting at the knees. “But I guess we ain’t got no cookies. I can’t cook worth shit.” Jack turns back to the fire and sighs, moving Ennis’ plate so the beans would stay warm. “Can’t keep you ‘wake neither. Fuckin’ wish…”

But what Jack wishes, he doesn’t say. Not out loud. It’s not always safe to say out loud, he knows. And in his head it doesn’t really matter, so he thinks about oatmeal cookies instead.

#

At the river Jack washes out his plate and the pan, tilting his hat to keep the low sun out of his eyes. He runs his fingers around the metal of the pan, searching for missed spots, concentrating too hard on that task to hear Ennis until he’s right behind, making Jack start and fall onto his knees. 

“Goddamnit Ennis, sure gonna give me a heart attack sooner rather than later,” Jack grumbles, looking around and up with a good-natured frown. He can’t stay angry for long, not when he’s had space to remember that time is finite, not a resource to be splashed away frivolously like water over rocks.

“What makes you think ‘m gonna give you one at all,” Ennis mutters back, sounding for the world like he doesn’t care, but Jack is so used to the minute inflections in Ennis’ voice that he knows Ennis is put out, just a little. That sort of emotion needs to be recognised and rewarded.

Jack grins as Ennis sits beside him on the grass. “Number a times you make my heart fuckin’ jump jus’ like that without warnin’, friend, can’t be good for a man’s health.”

Ennis, having taken out a cigarette, is exhaling smoke in Jack’s direction. “Sure you’re jus’ lookin’ for someone to blame for when those beans come back’n bite you in the ass,” he replies, the merest hint of a smile in his words. It’s enough for Jack, who can’t resist laughing.

“Sure you’re tryin’ a get yourself off the hook.” He wants so badly to reach across those few inches of space and touch Ennis, an action to complement the words, but he doesn’t want to ruin what this is, right now. Moments of such careless pleasure don’t happen often, he is too aware; not when they both shoulder so much in the way of guilt, expectations, desire…

Then, as though he’s trying to finish Jack’s heart off altogether, Ennis closes the gap between them himself. They’re now doing no more than sit shoulder-to-shoulder, but the warmth radiating from Ennis’ body is enough to make Jack sigh with contentment. Sometimes he doesn’t even want the sex if the trade-off is this closeness that can’t be beaten.

“Y’know this has been,” Ennis begins, and Jack tries not to show his surprise. He can’t recall the last time Ennis initiated a conversation in this way. It must be important. But Ennis can’t seem to get it out. “I mean,” he continues, staring determinedly at the river, “you an’ me. It’s been. Good.”

Jack smiles at the scenery to his left. A heat creeps up his cheeks as he realises Ennis is trying to say he’s enjoyed himself, maybe even thank Jack for a fun time. Jack would quite like to jump up and sing a happy song.

Instead, he rests his right knee against Ennis’ left. Another, small point of contact that Ennis doesn’t break. “I know.” It’s all he has.

And maybe they’re not facing each other, but their souls are meeting half-way.


End file.
